Monday, October 30, 2017

Les Murray / Powder of light

Hunched in the farm utetarpaulin against windthe moon chasing treetopsas it yellows into nightus, going to the picturesby the State forest waymy mate's brother driving

we are at the agethat has since slippeddown toward toddlersfor whom adults and dreamsmostly have no names yet.What wagged on screen thenmade from powder of light

were people in musicwho did and said dressystuff in English or Americankissed slow with faced crossedflicked small-to-bigin an instant, thenwere back in Australia

we believed it was Australia -then our driver who neverattended films would surfacefrom courting and collect usthere way before TV.And people, some holdingphones like face cards, still ask"Good movie? Who was in it?"I smile and say "Actors"but rarely now addhired out of the air.